


Overworked

by juneaprilseptember



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, Mutual Masturbation, My First Fanfic, One Shot, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn With Plot, Post-Hogwarts, Remus Lupin Lives, Rough Sex, Sexy Times, Sub Hermione Granger, Voyeurism, remione - Freeform, tied-up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 06:49:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10961943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juneaprilseptember/pseuds/juneaprilseptember
Summary: Hermione's job at the ministry is exhausting. She gets home after a long week and decides to take a bath. What happens when not-so-innocent thoughts of her resident werewolf housemate come into her mind? Are her feelings reciprocated?





	Overworked

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first ~sexy~ fanfiction that I've ever written or published. It makes me feel super awkward and kind of embarrassed so I would like to know what you all think of it?

The steam from the bath swirled around the bathroom, fogging the mirror and condensing on the frosted window. Hermione Granger wearily removed her work clothes and sank into the hot water, allowing the chamomile bath salts to soak into her muscles and calm her tired mind. The stress of the week slowly melted away and she looked forward to the holiday ahead. She had absolutely no plans for her week off, and for once that flooded her with relief, rather than boredom. 

Three years. Three years Hermione had been working at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The endless paperwork and bureaucratic procedures had increased the higher up the career ladder she rose, and now she was deputy head it seemed as though her desk was never clear. Not that she should be complaining, this was exactly where she’d hoped to be three years ago when she’d graduated Hogwarts after the war. A worthwhile career was first on her list, and she had accomplished a lot in the Department, despite the paperwork. 

The state of the Ministry after the war was shocking; a lot of the worst legislature against muggle-borns and werewolves had been tackled while Hermione was in Hogwarts doing her NEWTs, but there was still a lot to do. This mission gave her a purpose in life and helped fill the void in her life that had opened when Voldemort had fallen. Of course she was overwhelmingly happy and relieved that the war was over, but for the first time in nearly a decade she had had time to pause and stop running. She felt like her life had reached its culmination, for so long killing Voldemort, protecting Harry, and hunting Horcruxes had been her purpose, but with that over, what was left?

Sighing, Hermione pushed thoughts of the war and the last four years away. Dwelling on the past couldn’t change anything, so automatically her mind began contemplating the future. She was 22 and while everyone around her seemed to be settling down, marrying and having children, she was irrepressibly lonely. Harry had kindly let her stay in Grimmauld Place once it became clear that her parents were staying in Australia. The old Black residence had become a home for lost souls after Harry and Ginny had moved out to their own flat when Ginny graduated. Hermione shared the large house with Remus Lupin, George Weasley, and Luna Lovegood. All of them had lost a large part of themselves during the war and had been glad of the quiet of Grimmauld Place as somewhere to heal in peace. 

The bath salts had thoroughly dissolved and the water had cooled to a tepid temperature but still Hermione remained in the bath, unwilling to get out and face reality. It hadn’t escaped her how close George and Luna had become over the past few months. It had begun with lingering looks and subtle touches but gradually they were becoming more obvious in their flirting. Hermione was glad for them; losing Fred had taken the mischievous spark out of George’s eyes, but now it was slowly starting to return as he teased Luna. The evidence of healing warmed Hermione’s heart and made her hopeful that a happy ending would be possible for her too. 

Her mind turned to her other housemate. Remus had lost Tonks and his unborn son in the war; she couldn’t even imagine the pain that her must have suffered. As he slowly healed in the years that past, however, her thoughts on the werewolf had turned from sympathy, to friendship, to unrequited crush, to all-out lust. The glimpse she’d had of him topless a couple of days ago when he’d exited the bathroom had fuelled her dreams and daydreams constantly since. Just thinking about his muscular torso and the delicate spiders web of scars that crisscrossed his back and chest lit her fire below her stomach and she unconsciously edged her hand down towards the soft hair surrounding her intimate parts. 

With images of her former professor running through her imagination, Hermione closed her eyes and slowly began tracing lines up the inside of her thighs. Her other hand drew a spiral around her left breast before gently pulling on the peaked nipple. As her fingers found the burning button between her legs, she gave the same treatment to her neglected breast. Growing more and more aroused, she felt the liquid evidence of her lust coming out of her slit, mixing with the bath water. She became more rough as her imagination overcame her senses. She pictured topless Remus stood over the bath, watching her touch herself with a lust-clouded expression and the thought made her more excited. What would he think if he could see her now and know what she was thinking about? 

Before her doubts and sensibilities returned, she pushed harder against her clit and bit her lip at the jolt that coursed through her at the touch. Tracing one of her blunt finger nails further down her slit, she groaned at the trail of fire it left in its wake before growing impatient with herself and dipping the tip of her finger into her crease. Gradually she added another finger and became accustomed to the stretch before beginning to pump them in and out, brushing against her clitoris with her thumb. 

Another image entered her mind, Remus touching and rubbing himself in sync with her own masturbation. As her fantasy werewolf’s rubbing became faster and more frenzied, so did her own. She crooked her fingers around and moaned again at the sensations building in her centre. With a final rough tug on her nipple and a stroke of her clit, she felt her inner walls pulsate around her fingers as she fell over the edge into a sea of pure ecstasy, gently whispering Remus’ name. Her pleasure pooled out between her legs and turned the water a slightly cloudy colour. 

Thoroughly sated, Hermione reached over for her wand and cleaned the bath water of the evidence of her sexual fantasies. Just five more minutes, she thought to herself as she rested her head against the edge of the bath tub. Before long, the promise of a long week of relaxation, coupled with her sexual satisfaction and utter tiredness caused her eyelids to droop and her breathing to lengthen. All thoughts of the past and the future drifted away as Hermione breathed in the chamomile bath water and let her mind float off to sleep.

…oooOXOooo…

Sunlight streamed through Hermione’s bedroom windows and she slowly stretched her arms above her head and prepared herself to get out of bed. The last thing she remembered clearly was the suffocating tiredness that had overcome her while soaking in the bath, and she tried to piece together the rest of the evening which had obviously involved getting out of the cooling water and moving to her bedroom where she must have fallen asleep immediately judging by the fact that she was wrapped in her towel rather than her pyjamas. It troubled her that she had no recollection of this and she closed her eyes, trying to picture what had happened. 

Suddenly several memories flooded her brain with fragmented recollections of the night and her face reddened in embarrassment. She recalled waking up in the freezing water and shivering uncontrollably. She remembered Remus standing over her with worry etched on his face as he drained the water and covered her in a towel to protect her modesty. She pictured him checking her temperature and casting several warming charms around her to stop her shivering. She recalled him carrying her to the bedroom and she smiled as she remembered the annoyance in his voice as he ranted about her being overworked at the ministry. The scent of magic enveloped the bedroom and she recollected that Remus had cast a warming/warning spell over her that would awake and alert him if her temperature dipped to a dangerous low. She felt perfectly fine now though, so she assumed that her body heat was back to normal. 

Although she knew she should be embarrassed by what happened, (her housemate and unrequited crush had seen her naked and had had to care for her like a sick child), instead she felt strangely disappointed. Remus clearly still saw her as a just that, a child, and his former pupil. Other than wrapping her in the towel and carrying her to the bed, he had remained physically distant of her, his manner warm but efficient, only doing what was necessary to restore her warmth and make her comfortable.

“Hermione,” the whispered word jolted her from her daydreaming and made her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. She rolled over, pulling the towel closer around her chest and saw her saviour slumped in one of the armchairs beside her bed, wearing the same clothes as yesterday except for his shoes and socks which lay discarded beside the chair. His pale blue button-down was crumpled and the few top buttons undone giving her a glimpse of his chest hair and tanned skin. To her surprise, he still seemed to be asleep, the panic and events of the night taking their toll on his energy. 

“Hermione,” the word came louder this time and she realised he was dreaming about her. She wondered briefly what was happening in his dreams when suddenly her question was answered. 

Remus’ hand, which had been draped over the arm rest of the chair moved to slowly massage the growing tent in his beige chinos. Hermione grinned and blushed in happy surprise at the sexual nature of his dream, she felt like she was intruding on something private but at the same time, he had seen her naked last night and was clearly dreaming about her. 

“Uhhhhh,” Remus groaned and started rocking his hips towards his hand, unsatisfied with the lack of friction through his trousers.

Hermione became aware that she was in bed, wearing just a small towel, in the same room as the man she’d lusted after who was having a sexual fantasy about her. These facts gave her a rush of adrenaline which pooled in her lower abdomen and lit a fire between her legs. She felt her arousal begin to drip down her inner thigh and rubbed her legs together trying to get contact. 

“Hermione!” the werewolf shouted this time and Hermione made a decision. She grabbed her wand from her nightstand and cast a silencing and locking charm around the door to protect against unwanted intrusions. Quietly, she slipped her legs over the edge of the bed and tiptoed towards Remus, being careful not to wake him. She tucked the top of the towel to secure it and knelt in front of the armchair. She carefully breathed on her hand, warming it up, before slipping it up Remus’ shirt and caressing his firm stomach, following the lines of his muscles and the rough patches of hair and scars. The thickest trial of hair ran down below his navel in a line to underneath his trousers and pants. 

Her gentle touching elicited the response she wanted as Remus groaned and pushed himself up to strengthen her delicate stroking. The inundation of sensations slowly began to bring him out of his slumber and his eyelids started to flutter. The ghost of a frown crossed his features as he tried to hold onto the dream. Gradually he gained awareness and shot back in his chair when he saw Hermione crouched in front of him, her hand up his shirt.

“Hermione… what are you–,” he spluttered as she rose to her feet and stared at him questioningly. 

“When the man I’ve been fantasising about is clearly having a sexual dream about me, what did you think I was going to do?” she questioned, quirking her eyebrow up in amusement.

“I wasn’t … I’m sorry, I know it’s inappropriate… I can move out…I–” suddenly the rest of Hermione’s words sunk in and he gaped at her in surprise, “You’ve been fantasising about…me?”

In answer Hermione stepped forward and brushed her finger tips against the stubble covering his cheeks. Remus closed his eyes and leaned in to her touch, sighing in contentment before his mind caught up and he started talking again.

“Are you sure, Hermione? I mean, I’m old, old enough to be your father. And I’m a werewolf! You could do so much better! Why-”

“Shut up, you daft man. You’re not old, and your lycanthropy doesn’t define you. In my opinion, the only important things are how handsome, and intelligent, and caring, and attractive, and –” with each word she inched closer to him until his knees were brushing the lower edge of her towel. 

She looked inquiringly at his lap and when he relaxed and nodded she straddled his hips and brushed her nose against his. In response, he grasped her hips with his hands and crashed his mouth against hers, his tongue pushing roughly against her lips. When he pulled on her bottom lip with his teeth, her gasp allowed him access to invade her mouth. Their tongues fought for dominance before Hermione gave in and allowed him to overpower her senses and take control. 

She undid the remaining buttons on his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, he quickly removed his hands from her hips to shrug the clothing off, without breaking their kiss. His hands returned and entwined with her hair, dragging her lips roughly away from his. 

“You’re so wet, Hermione. I can feel you through my trousers,” he growled, undoing his belt. 

Hermione looked down and blushed when she saw that her skimpy towel had been pushed up her legs when she’d straddled his waist and was scrunched up around her hips, nearly exposing her most intimate area to him. The top of the towel had also begun to slip, threatening to come undone and leave her completely bare atop Remus.

“Last chance, are you sure you want to do this?” Remus questioned, “Mooney can get quite rough when I let him take over, so if you feel uncomfortable or want to stop just tell me, okay?”

“Take me,” Hermione responded, squirming on his lap, desperate for something to release the building pressure.

At her words, Remus growled again and picked her up, throwing her onto the bed and stalking towards her. Being thrown on the bed had proved to be the last straw for her towel which had come undone and only just covered her from waist to thigh. Slightly self-conscious she tried to find the edges of it again, wanting to hide from Remus’ burning gaze. When her attempts proved unsuccessful she tried to cross her arms across her chest but the werewolf pounced before she had chance. He pinned her arms above her head and when she nodded her consent he cast a spell to keep them in position. 

Slowly, he traced his fingers down from her neck to her chest, tracing intricate patterns on her skin and leaving trails of fire. When he brushed against her nipple she arched her chest up towards him, desperate for some more friction. Remus brought his mouth to her dusky pink peak and sucked hard on it, while tugging on the other with his fingers. He roughly pushed the towel off her and moved back to look at her hungrily. She keened at the loss and writhed on the sheets, rubbing her thighs together; desperate for his fingers, or his mouth, or his cock which was straining against the fabric of his trousers.

“Look at you, legs spread so wantonly, so wet for me,” Remus used wandless magic to tie her ankles to the bottom corners of the bed, preventing her from rubbing her legs together and allowing the cold air to caress her dripping centre. 

“Remus, I need –,” she gasped, needing him to touch her.

He growled and tugged on her hair, “you call me ‘master’.”

Hermione gasped again, the harsh language and domination arousing her even more, if that was possible. Gone was the gentle, caring Remus Lupin; he was replaced with this deliciously assertive version of himself and it was so much better than she could have imagined in her fantasies.

He moved to the wall at the foot of the bed and Hermione craned her neck up, struggling to see what he was doing. He was slowly removing his trousers and pants, all the while watching her squirming. From his position, he had a perfect view of her dripping pussy as she clenched her buttocks and rotated her hips in desperation. 

“I can smell your desire, little whore,” he rumbled, lust clouding his eyes, “just as I could smell it in the bathroom. Tell me, what got you so riled up in the bath last night. What did you imagine as you touched yourself?”

Hermione tried to form a coherent sentence but the aching desire seeping between her legs seemed to drain all her learning and intelligence from her mind.

“You!” she gasped, when he remained silent she added, “master.”

“I imagined you, watching me touch myself, while you masturbated, master.”

At her admission, he laughed and moved back to the chair at the side of the bed. He was now as naked as her and his large cock was stood to attention, begging for her attention. She bit her bottom lip as she imagined how complete she would feel if he filled her aching cavern. Slowly, he sat down and began to languidly pump his fist up and down his throbbing member. Hermione’s heart threatened to jump out of her chest as she thrashed on the bed, her desire growing more and more frantic as she saw his clenched hand begin to speed up. 

Remus’ head lolled back as he neared completion, though his gaze remained fixed on the writhing witch in front of him. Hermione felt the last fragments of consciousness fade as her arousal and desperation threatened explode inside of her. The cold tendrils of air stirring the hot liquid dripping down her slit were the only relief she had, as she closed her eyes and groaned in agony.

Warm liquid hit her chest and she opened her eyes in surprise to see Remus standing over her, his come coating her breasts and stomach as evidence of his desire. 

“Please, master,” she cried out, unable to restrain herself any longer. She felt sure that the gentlest touch to her clit or pussy would push her over the edge.

Lazily, he strolled down to the end of the bed again, his cock already starting to reharden as he saw the soaking sheets beneath her thighs. He bent down and gently blew his breath across her intimate area. She hissed and increased the speed of her wriggling, pushing her hips up and down desperately. He slowly leaned forward and dragged his tongue across her throbbing bundle of nerves, he licked more rapidly and softly grazed her with his teeth. Hermione bit her lip to stop herself screaming and tasted blood. Gradually, Remus scraped his finger across her folds, gathering lubrication, before swirling and pinching at her clit again. Just as she toppled towards the precipice of her orgasm he withdrew and this time she did scream at the loss. 

Tears leaked down her cheeks as she cried out for him to resume his ministrations. A larger pressure against her folds and she understood why he’d pulled away. She arched her chest upwards and tried to scoot down the bed to push his cock further in. With a quick jerk, he was in and she nearly purred at the sense of fulfilment and satisfaction that followed the burst of pain. After she adjusted he began to properly fuck her, releasing her ankles from their binds and raising her legs up to allow him deeper. 

After only just a couple of thrusts Hermione felt her inner walls began to pulsate and clench as she finally basked in the pleasure and intensity of her ecstasy. It was so much sweeter for being so desperately anticipated, lasting longer and pushing her higher than anything she had experienced before. Wave after wave of sensuality washed over her as she chanted Remus’ name like a prayer. He didn’t seem to notice the lack of formal address as he continued slowly thrusting in and out as her orgasm slowed and left her feeling warm and fuzzy. A little longer, and she felt him empty his seed deep within her before pulling out and lying down wearily beside her. 

Remus waved his hands above her head and Hermione was able to move her hands again. She slowly sat up and looked down at herself. She was on her bed, her upper half covered in Remus’ milky liquid, and her thighs and bedsheets between her legs covered in her own and Remus’ come. She knew her hair was a mess and her lip still red from where she’d bitten it. She did, indeed, look like a slut, she laughed. 

Remus sat up beside her and pulled her into an embrace, gently stroking her hair and placing gentle kisses on her eyelids and nose. The feeling of sexual gratification and the smell of his reassuring scent overpowering her senses, she rested her head on his shoulder and smiled. 

“Are you okay?” Remus asked her gently.

“That was incredible, I don’t know how to describe it!” she gushed back, “just, thank you!”

He smirked playfully at her, “good to know it was as pleasurable for you as it was for me.”

“Was this more than..?” Hermione didn’t quite know how to phrase her next question. She wanted to think that she meant more to Remus than a one-night-stand but she didn’t want to scare him away by asking too many questions too early on.

“I think I’ve known for a while that you’re the one I want, Hermione,” he replied, “this certainly meant more to me than just a quick shag.”

“Me too,” she sighed in relief as her doubts were squashed.

Hermione’s stomach rumbled and she blushed slightly. Glancing at the clock on her wall, she realised it was past noon and she hadn’t eaten anything since the night before. She swung her legs over the side of her bed and began getting dressed to go down to the kitchen. Realising that she was still covered in come she grabbed her wand and prepared to cast a quick cleaning charm. Remus gently pushed her hand away and she quirked her eyebrows at him in question.

“I like seeing you marked with my essence,” he explained with a shrug. 

“You’ve marked your territory?” Hermione asked back, her indignation at being treated so objectively was overcome by the undeniable sexiness of walking around with evidence of her morning coating her skin.

Knowing Luna and George would both already be out for the day, as they were heading to the Burrow for lunch, Hermione pulled on just a silk night-dress before unlocking the door and looking over her shoulder to see if he was following her. Remus summoned some pyjama trousers from his room and quickly pulled them on before following her down to the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think??? Please leave reviews and advice, I want to know if this is any good or just kinda cringy...


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